With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma
by The Chosen Storyteller
Summary: After the end of the world in a radioactive wasteland, can love still exist? Hancock never had reason to think of the emotion, well, not until Nate walked through Goodneighbor's entrance and enchanted him on the spot. They've managed a relationship since, but when Nate casually expresses love Hancock doesn't have a name for what he feels. He might need to look into it...
1. Chapter 1

**Warning:**** this story's shameless slice of life. If you think stories that focus on character interaction and feels are boring, you will be so fucking out of your comfort zone here.** I feel like people forget that Fallout has great characters whether they've got big roles or fade after their spotlight moment. Rather than gush about them, those forum posters spend more time frothing at the mouth when someone dares to suggest New Vegas isn't perfect. It's just not perfect, though.

I truly believe stories that explore character relationships are interesting. It's my favorite thing to write, and that's just how it is. Maybe that sounds boring to you, and if so I don't know why you didn't take my first warning and **escape**. At the end of the day, there's nothing I can say to make you read this story. It's just something I've wanted to do ever since seeing Hancock in-game. I feel like there's a decent amount to explore with this guy's head, so what better place to start than his reactions to being in a relationship? Also, BRACE YOURSELVES just in case I screw up the characterization. Hancock is the greatest thing I've seen in a modern video game, and when I write characters I especially like the difficulty is astronomical. If I fuck up, do let me know. Also, throw me off a cliff in a rational manner.

Can I also point out I know the story title's crap, but I could probably write a 50 chapter story without coming up with a vaguely decent title. Cutesy game reference sucks, I know, but most romance stories use generic 1 word things like "Wings" or "Heartbeat". Titles should have effort, which is what I'm going for here. It was either the game reference or something along the lines of "Old School Romance Revival" which takes way too long to say with a straight face.

**DISCLAIMER TIME – "Bethesda didn't poison our water supply, burn our crops or deliver a plague unto our houses. But they barfed Fallout 76 out. Fuck the video game industry, and fuck my life. *Puts on my best funeral attire and hops into the nearest coffin*"**

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_**( A Fallout fanfiction typed entirely by The Chosen Storyteller... )**_

_**With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma**_

_**Chapter 1**_

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Even after he stopped counting the years, Hancock couldn't help if he was intrigued by those with tales of a different life entirely. Once upon a time all those vehicles doomed to eventually fall apart on charred roads were deathtraps people willingly gambled their lives away in, children suffered mentally and physically in school five days a week just to learn pointless information and reputation was so important that if murder could help it would be added into one's peaceful schedule.

Hancock was never meant to truly know the Pre-War age, and he'd accepted that. If he was on a smoking break and happened to overhear two ghouls lapse into the past out loud, his attention shifting was only natural… It really wasn't often that scenario was arranged perfectly, but his blurry mental picture of the past gained enough detail afterward. But if he was given the option to travel through time and experience it up close and personal, fuck that.

A preserved relic of the past stumbled ungracefully into his world, anyhow. The result taking… A much different turn than Hancock expected.

"_I was just wondering what it would be like to kiss you." Nate said as if speaking of the weather, still leaning over the pile of scrap metal and tools._

_Hancock took a moment to do some wondering as well, mostly because he had been putting the latest trash they picked up on the supply run into one of the cabinets in the garage. It wasn't the first time Nate made a comment that sounded remarkably close to flirting, but there was a first for Hancock not having a reply already on the tip of his tongue._

_The bag of supplies made a thud when it hit the floor. Hancock could feel Nate's gaze on him suddenly, and he imagined how much emotion had to be in his eyes to be able to feel his stare at all._

_He was stalling… Couldn't think of a single reply… Too late to pretend he wasn't thrown out of orbit…_

_In the end, Hancock stretched his back and turned to meet those beautiful eyes directly. Words were useful, but there were times actions said so much more without the risk of awkward pacing. There was only three seconds for him to feel his heart come to life again, because he flung himself at Nate._

_They didn't die. Nate was caught off guard, stumbling when Hancock pressed himself to his chest. The only thing keeping Nate still were hands clasping his shoulders, fingers digging into innocent fabric. Somewhere among the chaos, Hancock lined their faces up and managed to make mouth to mouth contact._

_Rose petals weren't dropping from the heavens, the annoyingly loud rain hadn't weakened for anything and though Hancock was overcome with a rush of elation the self-conscious BS in his head wouldn't let him forget that he really did kiss like a comic book character with an ability to steal faces._

_For such a romantically-challenged kiss, it found steam and went on longer than it had any business to. Hancock was used to forgetting to breathe, but Nate's lungs and brain were probably shriveled. They separated long enough for breathing purposes, and Hancock took the opportunity to finally look him in the eye. But Nate didn't say anything – he couldn't because Hancock's finger rushed to press his lips shut. Judging from Nate's speed, he was going to actually try to sweep him off his feet this time. Frankly, Hancock wanted to be the one to end the experience with an inappropriate comment._

_On that night of firsts, however, brown eyes sparkling with the most sincere amazement he'd ever seen made Hancock shut the fuck up. The sudden loss of balance, the grin that appeared on his face… Of course he was self-conscious of how he must have looked, but it was difficult to care with Nate boldly moving in for seconds. And probably feeling ridiculous too when the enthusiasm led to his nose slamming into his cheek._

One year later, Hancock found himself thoroughly swept off his feet in a way he could not locate one goddamn explanation for. It was time to admit that his minor interest in Pre-War days fizzled, it had to in order for Nate to work his magic. When Nate's stare was particularly piercing, pants fell.

For a little while, it seemed like the final stage to reach in their strange relationship was sex. One might wonder how it even worked considering the ghoul situation. No one asked, and no one got answers. But if a bystander were to pass by the truck stop before reaching Sanctuary at a specific time of night, they were guaranteed to overhear a ruckus they wouldn't think too much about.

Everything was supposed to be fine after reaching a point they didn't have to trigger sex with booze. They could live...not happily ever after, but continue enjoying each other's company until death got in the way.

But that idealism could get the hell out, as far as the Commonwealth was concerned.

* * *

"You do realize that every time you're seen with him, I have to answer the questions." Fahrenheit said in the least enthusiastic tone, idly sliding her glass around. "'What attracts Hancock to that?' They ask. 'Is that ass distracting Hancock from watching over m- **Everyone**?' They're desperate to know. And it might be silly on the surface, but this prevents me from hearing the usual settlement concerns."

"So if I bring Nate to the balcony and we tongue wrestle in front of everyone, they'll realize some forms of pleasure can't be universally understood." Hancock added in the moment Fahrenheit returned to her drink.

Fahrenheit's drink wound up crashing back to the table, its sickening crunch deafened by the music starting. "I might consider flinging you off the balcony if you're not serious."

"I've followed Nate to the top of an insanely tall tower, had super mutants unleash all forms of hell while we attempted to escape in the Commonwealth's fucking slowest elevator." Hancock said quickly, the words somehow not setting the inside of his mouth on fire in their speedy travels. "All that on a rainy night. So falling off the balcony? It won't feel the same."

Fahrenheit had simply resorted to rubbing her temples as she gave him an exasperated look. She was either waiting for him to admit the gossip about his increasingly baffling sex life could be toned down, or she was jealous she didn't get to shoot up super mutants more often. It could go either way.

"Well." Fahrenheit said once releasing a breath and taking a quick gulp of her drink. "Isn't that how all the great love stories go? Two people from opposite lifestyles wait until the world's crumbling before deciding they actually give a damn about each other?"

"I was there, and as a witness I'd say you're ninety percent accurate." A new, lifeless voice cut in. But there was little time to consider the words, not when the owner put three bottles of beer down.

Nate pulled out the chair next to Hancock, no fucks about the obnoxious creaking noise. "Ten percent of the love stories actually have a future, drama resolved long enough to have sex or random acts of love. Depending on whether those involved went to church." He casually opened a bottle, and looked back and forth at everyone bewildered. "What are we even talking about?"

"If you and I kiss in public, all the people who want to get in my pants will be turned off by the fact I don't mind wholesome activity." Hancock explained as casually as he could, instantly drinking after and savoring it grime and all.

From the corner of Hancock's eye, he could see Nate nodding like he'd just been informed of a completely sensible course of action. All was well until he opened his mouth.

"But can they read how much I love you from my general face area?" Nate asked, experimentally pressing various spots on said area while Fahrenheit leaned closer to look for love too.

Hancock couldn't be sure if he drank too much at once, or his throat collapsed in rejection of its own will. He was definitely aware of violently coughing the booze out and on the floor in the same moment a softer song began to play. Of all the noise that took place at their table in the span of, what, twenty-five minutes… Of course that made a few people **finally** look their way. Hancock still didn't have a moment to care because of the thoughts going wild in his mind with new ammo.

"_**He said the L word as if it's just a fact. **__**W**__**hy haven't you said it in return?**_"

"_**Come to think of it, when was the last time you let him know how you feel?**_"

"_**There might be more to relationships than sex, sometimes. **__**Never mind, **__**y**__**ou can't understand.**_"

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Hancock finally stopped pacing near the entrance and sat down to distract himself with a cigarette. It was still late in the night, Fahrenheit fled the scene before he could ask her for help in dropping a passed out Nate onto a bed at the hotel. Hancock knew better than to let these thoughts consume his head, so he didn't look for any extra alcohol or pull Mentats out of his bag. Maybe he could find trouble on his own.

There wasn't a lot of activity at the moment, not around the shops at least. Hancock refused to be left alone with the painful sort of crazy in his head, but he didn't have much choice of company for the time being. The nameless Triggermen guy leaning against the outer wall of Daisy's shop was too serious, rolling his eyes a shocking amount when Hancock casually asked a string of questions with blatant innuendo because. Just because. It was a tie; Hancock never flinched when the silence let him take in what he'd just said out loud, and the Triggermen guy stared blankly into space without the slightest hint of cracking a smile.

"Are you always starved for attention when your Nate isn't around?" A new voice cut in, the owner revealing herself as Daisy leaning over his shoulder offering the exasperated look a certain Triggermen guy wouldn't.

"Here I thought I was hiding my second worst addiction so well." Hancock said without a trace of shame before standing and discarding the cigarette.

Daisy adjusted the dusty box of merchandise in her arms, using that time to shake her head. "We've all seen you stare at him longingly, usually three times a day."

"Seven by my count." Triggermen Guy mentioned while casually stretching his fingers and examining them.

"At this rate, I'm probably better off getting hammered and shouting how I feel about him from the balcony like a normal person." Hancock thought out loud, he may have looked more serious than intended when he did it because Daisy removed a hand off the box to bury her face into.

"Don't assume public announcements of love were never attempted." Daisy mentioned, voice indicating her mind was traveling back a thousand or so years. "A concerning amount of romance stories believed that screaming wedding vows across the street was the ultimate way those tongue-tied by emotions could win over the object of their affection. If the whole supply being sold out was any indication, someone was touched."

"I would wait in violent rain for **minutes** if it meant hearing wedding vows." Triggermen Guy commented, feigning disinterest by checking if his shotgun was loaded. It wasn't loaded before?

Out of nowhere, the merchandise box rattled as it was set down. There was no reason for it, nor was it even attempted to be explained. Daisy simply stepped closer and folded her arms to complete a stern look.

"Look in my eyes." Daisy requested as simple as one could, perfectly still and letting no inflection inside her voice.

"Hey, I'm clean. For now." Hancock flinched slightly when he caught just one eye, and as words poured out his voice was stripped of inflection too. "I probably had more beer than I needed an hour ago, but the booze never harmed me."

"Tell me you wouldn't be embarrassed to traumatic levels shouting to an entire settlement about being in love."

Hancock thought about that for a minute, actually. He took his eyes off Daisy's, lifting his gaze higher in the general direction of the balcony he'd often rambled on and hoped somebody got something out of it. No one had to talk to him about embarrassment by public speaking – he never had the nightmare of being naked in the worst scenario...he would say if it didn't **finally** happen after his second or third appearance on the balcony. Two and three had the same reason for happening, they kind of blurred.

Hancock's eyes forcefully moved back to Daisy's, and he felt like he was being summoned into the void where no one would hear his screams. There was such temptation to walk away without replying, but that would merely be the non-verbal way of confirming her theory anyhow.

"I just feel like Nate wouldn't have to awkwardly piece together the fuck's going on if it's in public." Hancock admitted surprisingly easier than he expected, inflection back in his voice if that meant anything. "Yeah it could be embarrassing if other people don't play along and look busy in the background, but I'll take that risk. Slipping tongue in his mouth was a risk too, we got over that fast."

"If I had one hundred caps for each time..." Triggermen Guy trailed off in the background with a wistful sigh.

In the end, Daisy wore a look of pity more than anything as she stepped forward and squeezed Hancock's shoulder. "You won't get a discount on any surviving romance novels in my inventory. Though if you can afford it, they just might save your life."

* * *

**People were starting to look their way after his shouting across the airport and mad rush. He'd always been a timid man, but that day he traded his nervousness in for determination as he stood in front of the woman he could either spend the rest of his life with or lose forever.**

**A loser from the lowest hole in the city could only dream of having a high class woman like Jane turn around at the sound of his shouting and drop her luggage with a booming thud. If there was anything wrong about running to meet each other, they forgot to care.**

**Once they were eye to eye, Joe had to catch his breath and calm his bursting heart. He opened his mouth, but he found himself staggering away and clutching his jaw when a powerful fist concealed by a fuzzy winter glove made contact.**

**That same fist uncurled and lifted, a warning this time as Jane's turquoise eyes filled with questions. Why did you leave on that magical night? Why come back when I'm to be going home? Was I stupid for returning your feelings?**

**Joe's highest priority was to make sure those eyes never cried over him. It pained him to see Jane's face fall like she was going to lose control again, so he threw his hand in his jacket pocket and fished out the ring.**

"**I've always ran away when life got serious, but I'm tired-"**

"Found some salvageable wood." Nate managed to call out without a tone shift, unceremoniously dropping firewood in the pit judging by ensuing noise.

Hancock finally tore his gaze from the book, the fact he'd made himself comfortable under the half tent instead of disposing of the skeleton he pulled from the sleeping bag crashing into his mind. The victory against the book was only short-lived, he checked the faded page number and was vexed to see fifteen.

The book could easily fill out the rest of the time with pornographic adventures – hopefully – or changing focus to some other couple. Hancock wasn't invested in the story-telling aspect so much as Joe and Jane's interactions up to the drama.

The description made sure to **hammer in **how **great **their relationship was going, how **love **was blooming despite the difference in social class but it was **amazing **because love **moves goddamn mountains**. Alas they weren't married, so sex was off the table. Apparently, just holding hands during a minor problem and squeezing each other at every meeting could benefit a romantic relationship.

Hancock looked up at Nate a few feet away, face illuminated by a small fire while cooking the leftover molerat from lunch. It wasn't often Hancock was reminded his heart was actually beating without chems in his system, but he felt it when he caught the amber shade those pretty brown eyes acquired.

"_**Were you born **__**fatally**__** stupid?**_" The BS thoughts tried to halt Hancock's stroll to Nate. He was only barely tuned in as they grew desperate. "_**Go on like a moth to the flame. He's only going to stare afterward; it'll be awkward, mark my words. **__**You really should**__**n't**__**\- **__**Don't ignore this**__**!**_"

Nate looked up with a hint of curiosity, eyes tracking Hancock's movement until he crouched at his side. "Hey, it's going to be several minutes before the meat..." Nate's thought process seemed to crash and explode when Hancock experimentally pressed a hand to his chest.

The flames were still crackling, providing the only background noise. The occasional wild gunfire or rabid dog would have added to the atmosphere more, honestly.

Hancock assumed his own face mirrored Nate's, baffled, but he couldn't just pull away and pretend he was miraculously given his sanity back. He shouldn't have had to remind himself nothing could be awkward between them ever again after sex, but Earth was upside down and out of anyone's control.

Several seconds crawled by, and when the time was apparently right Nate reached for the hand over his chest and let their fingers curl together and stay like that, something that could be awkward if allowed to go on a minute longer than necessary.

"I have to be honest: I'm not familiar with this kind of foreplay." Nate, always focused on the important matters, admitted and steered them straight into awkwardness.

When Hancock was momentarily attempting to fix his brain's remaining thread of sanity, he looked up from their intimate finger contact to Nate's eyes. For just a second, one rare second, there was awareness in all that amber even if he didn't say anything else.

"Haven't you learned I get more out of being pinned down?" Hancock didn't expect an answer, quickly flashing a smile when Nate met his eyes too. "Yeah this isn't one of my dirtier ways to pass the time, but I think I'd rather save the energy for the garage on a rainy night."

"If these calluses and scars stimulate you that much, we can do this all the way back to Sanctuary." Nate said in a way a kind soul might describe as flirtatious, flexing his fingers.

Hancock's eyes wandered back to their hands, truly noticing what repairs and various injuries have done to perfectly preserved skin. When he tried to think back to the moment he stopped paying attention to the contrast in their appearances, he couldn't actually locate that one. But he didn't think it was because his brain was throwing out memories as it broke down.

"It's not **normal **if I say I want to do more of this, is it?" Hancock asked quickly, before rambling to intercept the nerve's escape. "No one's ever asked me point blank I wanted to hold hands under the stars, whatever people used to do before discovering there's not just two ways to fuck. So if it wasn't clear already, I'm diving into this blind."

Nate blinked several times, expression mostly neutral. There was no way to know what was running through his mind when that happened. If he thought anything negative, all Hancock could do was brace himself and wait.

The waiting time was cut short when Nate leaned in closer, eyes shut contently as his lips met Hancock's. Hancock's mind cast everything out, but just when he started to return with some tongue the very slight feeling on his mouth was gone as Nate reeled back.

"I've wanted to hear that from you for a while now." Nate confessed, actually looking sheepish as he moved a hand to the back of his neck. "You not punching me in the throat when I tried to flirt for the first time, yes that's how far back it goes."

A flash of the past entered Hancock's mind and left just as quickly, though he made an effort to stifle a laugh it must have been loud anyhow because Nate made a peeved expression. Though they probably should have focused more on the discovery his facial muscles worked, Hancock untangled one hand to rest move to his cheek and guide him close again.

"You have to understand, Nate – getting caught robbing someone, fumbling your way through a chat about morality and subsequently drinking a lot and commenting on how you imagine them without pants… Pretty sure romance died as far as the Commonwealth's concerned. But you have to make **effort** to get rid of me once I'm hooked."

"No, you're the one stuck with me." Nate said, eyes sparkling as if they weren't overwhelming enough. As if to outdo himself, he touched his forehead to Hancock's fondly. "The other night I was drunk when I said I love you, but I meant it. I would have preferred a better place and time, but I know I couldn't have said it any more wordy."

Hancock didn't mean to cringe when Nate said the L word so easily. There was no way Nate couldn't have felt that unless his face spontaneously went numb. Hancock refused to move until he was pushed or given more subtle indications the romance attempt was completely destroyed.

Several seconds passed by, and Nate didn't say anything more. He was the one to pull away, mostly because the flames nearby were dying and the dinner was as cooked as possible. When Nate crawled toward the pit and sat cross-legged to eat, Hancock joined him while his mind raced. There were just fragments of thoughts, it was too crowded in there for coherence.

Hancock was only at the beginning of the process to understand romantic relationships, so when he made the decision to slid closer to Nate and bump shoulders while he reached for some dinner too… It wasn't an excuse to touch him and hopefully bring more talking out of him. If his stomach had been trying to eat itself for, what, thirty years then hopefully it wasn't too late to save it.

By the time the last sparks in the pit fizzled and darkness surrounded their resting place, Nate was just chewing thoughtfully on what must have been pure fat. He'd stolen looks at Hancock like they were horrifically unprepared teenagers. On the surface.

The gears were turning in Nate's head, no doubt about that. Yes, he was usually among the most unreadable people Hancock had ever met. This time his forehead wrinkled with thought, triggering movement down his face with fingers hovering in front of his lips as if to hide what could have been a natural smile. As if Hancock would suffer a heart attack if he witnessed emotion twice in a month.

"Okay, I need to get something out of the way." Nate finally said, brushing his hand over Hancock's before standing. "It's going to be a long time before we're alone like this, and I don't want the opportunity to slip away."

While Nate began to pace, determined to find something worth staring at until he could process his own emotions, Hancock took the liberty of stretching out the hand he'd managed to slip a piece of jewelry on.

The ring was untouched by the dirt, dust and radioactive waste Nate dealt with on a daily basis. It was just as pleasant to look at as it must have been over two-thousand years ago in the glass case. It especially must have looked lovely on Nora's finger.

"It's optional." Nate spoke with more nervousness in his tone than Hancock ever heard from him. His back was still facing him, so if he looked it too he wasn't showing. "Hell, even before the end of the world people weren't required by law to be married. If you want, it can be purely symbolic. Maybe it can say how I feel better than my own tongue."

"You want me to have this." Hancock said slowly like he'd ever said those words before.

"I wanted to give you that ring for a long time, too. One morning I woke up after spending the night wondering if Nora would have wanted me to find someone else; we never got to have that conversation. But I like to think Heaven lets its population look over the clouds if they're not clumsy, and she knows..."

Hancock, in the midst of Nate's rambling, couldn't take his eyes off the ring. Ignoring the fact it managed to slide over destroyed flesh without getting stuck, how was he supposed to wear it and not feel like he was trespassing on something he didn't understand yet? Perhaps the most important question was: why did his chest feel like it was going to explode without anxiety involved?

"So..." Nate drawled, blatantly peeking over his shoulder. "We could spend all night going back on forth on whether or not I'm ready to do this again. I could pretend I actually give a fuck about our appearances. You could invite me to watch the stars, holding hands again; that's what I'm betting on, anyway."

If Hancock's tongue hadn't withered and killed all the loaded, stalling words by proxy- Come on, why did Nate have to say all this on the same occasion he decided to try that romance stuff outside of the remarks he made when they would get it on? He wasn't shocked into mute, no that would never happen. Impossible.

Nate was waiting for him to reply, and not doing so didn't exist as an option. He mercifully stopped looking his way, even though immediately afterward he tried pacing to either translate his restlessness or get it out of his system since the chem supply was low.

"_**Don't stop digging that grave; you were doing wonderful work.**_" The BS thoughts couldn't help but flare up again. "_**Seriously, don't think too much about your next move. You're the replacement for someone better in his eyes regardless-**_"

"Nate," Hancock finally spoke up with enough energy that made him rise to his feet. "There's enough chaos in the world to worry about, and giving someone a harmless piece of jewelry shouldn't be thrown in that pile. I don't think I understand the symbolism you're offering, not yet. But when you've got the time to whisk me away for lessons, let me know; I've got so much fucking free time anyway."

"_**Oh, just fucking die.**_"

Nate took his time swiveling, it felt like three tense seconds passed before he faced Hancock and stared with his typical stoic expression. It was either Hancock's words or being late to realize he hadn't taken the ring off, but the stoic look shattered to reveal the natural smile he pulled off best.

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_**TBC**_

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Hey, it's the author again. Before you throw what produce you will, I want to point out I'm not going to let this story sit up and collect dust just because it's not a oneshot thing. I don't intend for this story to make it past 3 chapters, and who knows? It might end in the next chapter if I feel comfortable with it.

Hell, this story probably doesn't need to go beyond 1 chapter at all. But I love the implications that go with being able to give the wedding ring to your love interest in-game, and I feel like they'd all have unique reactions to it if the romance thing was fleshed enough. But I get my romance fix from Bioware hijinks, so I'm not complaining.

Maybe I should have been ambitious with this story and have it be in the format of briefly touching on how I think each love interest would react to the wedding ring, but… *super fake throat clearing* Hancock, though. I don't want to say he's Best Love Interest when I personally think MacCready might as well be the unofficial canon one (based on the fact he can relate the most to the SS). But Hancock, as I said earlier, should be appreciated as something humanity doesn't deserve but recieved anyhow.

How's the story so far? What are the no doubt dozens of parts I should work on improving for future stories? Did the slice of life content make you want to throw chemicals in your eyes (though I don't know WHY people hate slice of life so much)? And above all else: did I fuck up Hancock's characterization? These are the questions that haunt me, and if you feel like it I'd love to hear your opinion. I know that fanfic authors have a shitty reputation for being way too sensitive and hysterical when given advice, but I promise you I've spent so long without advice to guide me I appreciate criticism. Of course, maybe I'm coming on too strong. You know what? I'm gonna stop now. *Awkward laughter all the way back to the coffin from earlier*


	2. Chapter 2

I know my parents are proud this is what I'm doing with my college education-

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_**With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma**_

_**Chapter 2**_

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**Matthew's eyes roamed everywhere from the floor to the diner's counter and the machinery behind it. He didn't usually have this much trouble on dates. He was supposed to be the heart-breaker, the kind of man any innocent lady's mother would look at and slam the door in his face at first encounter. But Marsha dried his throat out, sent his heart racing and made him want to hold the door and her hand even in public to let everyone know who stole his heart and didn't seem to have plans to cough it up.**

**Dear God, was that what it meant to fall for someone? Your brain gets rewired? Suddenly, all of Matthew's normal concerns about getting his lady companion away from this crowded location and to the privacy of a hotel bedroom were thrown out the window gladly.**

**Marsha didn't seem to notice his breakdown, sweet Marsha. She just continued talking about her day at work, sometimes getting a little too loud and faintly blushing when other people cast annoyed looks her way. Other times she curled her wavy black locks as she was in thought about what commentary she could add, and there was no way she could know how such simple acts made him daydream right then and there something...not sexual for a change, rather, he wanted to take her to some abandoned field and stick wildflowers in her hair while she talked forever.**

When Hancock read that part of the book, his first thought was surprise Joe and Jane's story ended so...abrupt and unfulfilling. But hey, Matthew and Marsha took their place and Hancock already regretted that purchase and hoped Daisy at least got a laugh out of it.

Did people really change when they found the love of their life? Hancock asked the question mockingly at first, then… Seriously evaluated his own life from the current time to a year back. Suddenly, he bristled as the BS thoughts attacked the in that vulnerable second. Seriously, one second. But he tried to remind himself that Nate wouldn't willingly seek him out if he didn't see something he liked. You know, aside from the fashion sense and stoner past that's actually still going strong. And that thought made him start smiling in spite of a head full of obnoxious thoughts – Nate viewed their relationship similarly to his with Nora. The only proof he had was the ring, and Nate's words should they have another awkward heart to heart chem-influenced.

"Something on your mind?" Nate asked, barely looking over his shoulder while he walked. Holy shit, he knew everything-

Picking up his pace, Hancock was able to be shoulder to shoulder with Nate as the truck stop and the bridge to Sanctuary appeared closer. He caught sight of those eyes he'd often lost himself in, though they weren't sparkling at the moment they betrayed his stoic face. He was clean enough to believe that he wasn't hallucinating concern breaking through.

"There's something I want to try tonight." Hancock probably didn't need to say that looking him right in the eyes while fingers crawled up his arm, but hey it made Nate hold his gaze while he explained a little less teasingly. "If we're not assigned to patrol or night watch, I'll take you up on that offer to watch the stars. You never know when the rain's gonna come back, after all."

Nate suddenly stepped around. Not only freezing Hancock in place because his route was blocked, but also because he took the opportunity to go in right for the kiss. as yet another symbol of how he felt of that idea.

It wasn't Hancock's intention to get carried away, but it was mere seconds before he cast self-consciousness and doubt to the wind in favor of returning it full force. If there was anyone currently walking the perimeter of the truck stop doing some upkeep, they would just have to see a show of the Commonwealth's living savior get his face seemingly mauled by his ghoul lover first thing in the morning.

Unfortunately, the fun was put on hold just when Hancock got a grasp of Nate's hips far too inappropriate for discussion in broad daylight. It took him all his strength not to whine a long string of curses once Nate's lips moved away, opening his eyes and seeing those beautiful brown ones almost look apologetic. But apologies don't mean anything to ignored libido.

"So we're just going to watch the stars?" Nate asked breathlessly, never changing his face.

"I bet you can get up to some sexy adventures just by taking it slow." Hancock said, maintaining eye contact and hoping his more subtle posture change hadn't been detected to fuck this up. "Don't misunderstand; I can't see myself getting tired of you, not when I've finally found someone who gets what being pinned down does to me. I still want the sex, but I think we should..." He trailed off, tongue twisting when Nate moved in closer and did the unthinkable: an embrace.

Hancock's whole body went stiff differently this time, as in his spine must have snapped in half with how rapidly his posture changed. He was immobilized, trapped like a jackass with his hands hovering on the sides of Nate unsure if moving to his hips again would kill the mood.

"Wholesome activity." Nate said delightfully close to his ear, setting Hancock's insides on fire more than radiation at that point. With his chin resting on his shoulder, he could feel the rumble of chuckling. "If I remember correctly, you said back in Third Rail you don't mind wholesome activity. Let's find out how much you can take tonight."

"Whatever you want."

"It's all up to me?" Nate made a hiss-like noise of regret, finally. "John, you can't do this; it'll bring the second apocalypse."

"Maybe so, but we need to be team when outside of gunfights too." Hancock's gaze landed on the ring on his finger, trying so damn hard not to smile **excessively**. "Now that I've wondered how people in your time survived without fucking out of wedlock, I need answers. You're the only one I want to fill in those blanks."

When Nate pulled himself back slightly, though still close enough to kiss, he was stoic as ever but his eyes were so much more openly affectionate. This son of a bitch looked at him like he was some kind of precious treasure, and that was just inaccurate. But Hancock could live with it, a fact he hoped to convey by letting Nate see him smile not as dreamily as before… But enough to make a point. Before he grabbed hips and pulled him back in for a frantic kiss.

"Do you think we should let them be, or…?" Preston said somewhere nearby, letting uncertainty slip into his voice.

"I can separate them." Sturges replied sounding close to Preston. Plus, he had a particularly matter of fact tone. "Two gardens are flooded, three water pumps are busted and the main generator almost fried that new family. But when all that's taken care of, they'll have...free time."

Hancock wasn't sure if Nate overheard that exchange too, but he every time a vaguely sensible part of him said it was time to reel in his mouth wasn't having any of that. There was no way Preston hadn't passed by the garage on a night Hancock asked Nate to pin him to the floor; he knew their normal.

* * *

"**You could have anyone." Matthew said through gritting teeth, looking toward the crowd bitterly. "Marsha, I can't give you the life you deserve. I know I feel strongly about you, but what if that changes in a few years? Fuck, maybe even one year. Because I can't be tied down. I need variety." He just kept digging deeper, he knew that. He screamed inside to stop, but no amount shut his face. Not even when Marsha turned away from him and downed her drink like there was no tomorrow.**

**He could feel his eyes sting a bit, his teeth tear into his own lip and release a drop of blood by the time he was finished with his outburst. The world around him, the fact they were still in a crowded bar didn't process. Because all that mattered to him was doing the talking now, and just hoping with utter desperation he didn't destroy Marsha's image of him. But it was too late, wasn't it? She still wasn't looking his way, she probably wanted to get out of there and mark the time she spent with him as a waste.**

"**Find a better man." Matthew said, leaning on the counter and massaging his temples. "Find someone who surprises you with flowers when you're sick, pulls you into a dance when your favorite song comes on the radio or… Actually expresses emotion when you're in his arms."**

"**You are that man." Marsha said passionately, turning on the bar stool eyes blazing.**

"**If you could line up all my old girlfriends now, they'd agree I'm living trash." Matthew argued-**

As **t****h****rilling** as this new couple's story was, Nate caught him reading alone by the fire with his blank stare particularly piercing. The fact the book didn't land in the flames when Hancock eagerly jumped was downright miraculous.

It wasn't every evening Hancock had Nate behind him, strong hands covering his eyes as he guided him toward the unknown. Hancock was genuinely trying not to let his mind dip and ultimately sink into dirty thoughts. He needed to calm the fuck down if he wanted to not let the opportunity pass him by.

If Nate could use the L word, Hancock should be able to...in theory. But the book didn't provide the information he was searching for, although the non-sexual contact was still worth studying. People in the Pre-War days really got off on being prudish. Don't waste logic on that obvious truth because you'll just cry yourself to sleep in defeat.

"You can give a hint about what you've set up, right?" Hancock asked, making sure to put his eagerness and curiosity in the open. As if being honest with himself would keep his mind in this state and not let in the BS.

Nate just hummed insufferably. It lasted so long that it seemed he was toying with him. But even if Hancock pulled back his hands and turned to examine his face, he would probably find more emotion in a brick wall anyhow.

"Come on, I know all those repairs didn't give enough time to breathe… Let alone set up a cute little scene."

"We're almost there. Try to be a little patient?"

"Nate, would you be patient if you were fucking immortal?"

Nate made a thoughtful noise, but left that topic alone.

Hancock's anticipation made the walk seem like an eternity, but to say that was true would be ridiculous considering it really only lasted two or three minutes. Give or take. While they traveled, Hancock was somewhat distracted at times reaching for his hands and brushing them intimately while bystanders probably felt awkward.

Finally, Nate stopped and reeled his hands away. But he didn't have to tell him to open his eyes; Hancock's eyes flew open and cleared the darkness at unholy speed and he took in the...truck stop.

Not **just **the truck stop, of course. Nate positioned him at the front door into the store half, not facing the building but rather the watch tower he once threw together that didn't even reach the same height as the roof. But, stay with us, the watch tower had one medium sized uncovered pillow and a tattered blanket folded next to it with two bottles of beer. Not that the Mentat container lying there as well wasn't also a noteworthy addition.

"Approximately two hundred years ago, you could pick up your date in a car and drive until you find countryside… Then watch the stars and lose all track of time enjoying their company." Nate explained with his infinite wisdom. "Other than the potential concussion from hitting your head on the window during backseat sex, there's not many ways it can go wrong."

Hancock had many questions whirling in his mind, every one of them focused on the backseat sex. But as much as he would have liked to keep them around, he threw them aside hoping they'd crash into the BS. He could stay focused… He had to stay focused. He didn't mind the idea of doing non-sexual things with Nate, but doing them often enough and still walking away content would imply there was cause. Like a certain L word. But was it the same? The book hadn't exactly given the revelation he expected; all he learned was that romance novels had the tendency to include so much yet never actually reach the point of what brought the characters together. Even the idealism was shit.

When Nate walked in front of him, seemingly enveloped in the soft moonlight as he offered a hand… It looked like he was inviting him into some form of an afterlife. Lucky for him, Hancock was into it and took the offer. Astronomy, or what the fuck, might become interesting after a lifetime of indifference.

* * *

The watch tower being cramped for two was an obvious issue from the start. They didn't have a car, and the only raised terrain close enough also contained a certain Vault. And while Nate and some other poor soul tasked to help with repairs got on the top of the houses to make roofs, too much weight could undo the work. This was the only form of elevation around Sanctuary; they had to make it work...or at least attempt.

The outcome? Well instead of an awkward situation where one might have to sit on the other's lap, Nate seated himself on the platform letting his legs perch on the short wall and dangle over the edge. That was going to tear a goddamn muscle, but Hancock had already been there and done that so he wasn't worried of his own legs upon mimicking his position.

Fortunately, the weather was good. No rain, clouds or sickly green hue. Just a dark void full of twinkling stars to be enjoyed by a couple of freaks. If one were brave enough to write a romance novel nowadays, that would be a great place to start. Here's random two people out of a countless population, they found each other against the odds and you know you're curious enough about other people's private lives so let's delve.

"Fuck, it's been forever since I've seen the stars." Hancock muttered, looking to the sky and ignoring the clicking noise at his side. "I don't think I've even taken a second to go through comparing them to the Commonwealth. Like the Commonwealth's certainly screwed-"

With what could have been the sound of a bone in Nate's wrist getting mangled, the stubborn blockage in the bottle fell to the ground. Hancock's gaze slowly lowered, giving whatever garbage that was a somber look before Nate chugging booze like an addict.

"_**Well, show him you don't have a sex addiction to go with the chem.**_"

"_**Unless, when all's said and done, you're too scared to make a move.**_"

"_**Remember: you're spontaneous and unpredictable. Make Nate remember it, too.**_"

The BS crackled like static and faded out when Hancock did make a move. There was no one around to ponder how effective the move was, but from his point of view an arm around the back would send a message. He remembered the whiplash-inducing marathon of dates between Joe and Jane where each touch was a transition. Hancock couldn't tell if Nate noticed this move, not with his eyes on the sky. So he followed his gaze and tried to relax.

Glimmering stars faintly lit up sections of the darkness. Hancock had his doubts anyone would truly believe him if he admitted he unintentionally held his breath taking it all in. Nate could nod politely if he told him, but it was debatable if even he believed.

"Isn't this the part where you show off what you learned in science class?" Hancock asked with a dash of mischief.

Science class sobered Nate up immediately, or at least that was what it looked like when he set the bottle down and stared beyond the stars into another dimension. Did he even notice Hancock leaning forward, wondering if a finger snap or shout in his ear would pull him back?

"Would you… Would you believe me if I said I've barely retained anything I learned in science class?" Nate finally asked gravely, still staring through the planet.

"Easily."

Nate winced and gradually tore his eyes from the sky to Hancock. His face lightened up on the stoic for a moment of uncertainty. Hancock closed any remaining distance between their sides, finding a resting place for his cheek on Nate's shoulder.

"Just share some of these, and pull some fake science out your ass." Hancock requested, grabbing the nearby Mentat container and swaying it in front of Nate's face.

"Science isn't the conversation route I'm used to on a date." Nate replied promptly and, for his lifeless level, impishly.

"Sounds like someone has more experience than he lets on." Genuine awe slipped into Hancock's voice to fast for him to restrain. "Enlighten me."

"That's classified information." Nate's rapid monotone switch truly helped that statement fuel synth theories-

Hancock let out a sigh. Though his next move of slinging a leg over Nate's and finding a resting spot halfway on his lap before looking right in his eyes and slowly inserting a Mentat in his own mouth hoped to convey he wasn't giving up. He really didn't **have** to keep his fingertip grazing the edge of his tongue either, but… Well, it was build up for him to lean forward and make contact with Nate's mouth.

He really did want to know just how experienced Nate was with these star-gazing dates, although Hancock's mind did briefly shut off again as Nate's arms encircled his frame and he kissed him back with more passion than his words could pull off.

"**Good fucking God**!" Someone shrieked nearby.

Hancock and Nate's mouths separated, though they kept their limb entanglement because releasing the other might cause them to fall off the platform. That was a good excuse, right?

"Hush!" Another voice scolded, this one at enough volume to be understood as male. "This is the kind of action you might run into in larger settlements. Don't look like a prude!"

A scan of the path beside the truck stop showed the two interrupting settlers making their way to Sanctuary. The two men looked to be in their mid to late twenties, dressed ill-prepared for a fight like they came from a smaller settlement.

"What?" The louder man huffed, gesturing vaguely beyond the truck stop. "That report over the radio wasn't lying about real shelter. We can sleep without worrying about stray bullets now! Get your priorities in order..."

* * *

"Before Nora, my love life really wasn't...there." Nate began with eloquence right out of the damn gate. "I did have four girlfriends in total, but only one relationship lasted longer than a month. And then there was one man who I didn't see often enough to consider him a boyfriend, but if it weren't for him I might not have realized liking men and women has nothing to do with my morality."

"I actually envy that – the four… Maybe-not-really partner count." Hancock cut in, closing the distance again and resting his cheek on his shoulder without subtlety. "I've wasted so many nights for almost every person who's also high out of their mind, and not just because I wasn't feeling a connection. Not just because my dick made them gag before ever we even started. I've had to talk to them again so many times after that, sometimes for business and sometimes for the hell of it."

"At least you had a good conversation starter?" Nate could have dislocated his shoulder if he kept tensing while drawing out those, um, comforting words.

"But the most insane part is: one of those encounters didn't leave me picking myself up from some disgusting floor, dressing fast as fuck and leaving before he woke up. I stayed for… Yeah, the first time. I wanted to be the one of the first things he saw, not because it would amuse me for a second if he yelled and scrambled to the corner." Hancock realized he was getting to talk **way **longer than he needed. He peeked up at Nate just staring blankly, and he cleared his throat. "To the corner of a garage. The garage right over there, if I recall. Guy could have been your twin. Fucking… Do you know what I mean?"

"I could always say 'you must have had a deeper reason for wanting sex with the same person', but should I? What are you really thinking deep down, John?"

Hancock hoped that when he lowered his gaze to the ring, Nate's eyes followed him there and were able to...walk him through what shenanigans were bouncing off the walls in his mind.

* * *

_It wasn't often John willingly walked onto any church's property, but tonight he held his tongue on some of his opinions of God versus science. Mainly the one where neither felt like suitable rulers over his life. But they were going with tradition, and so he allowed Nate to sweet talk him into wearing a more formal jacket and pants like his. He just hoped Nate would allow him to be the one to get him out of those clothes when the party was over, yes he thought it. Even if they weren't in God's house any more, the outside area could be considered the holy backyard._

_Everyone else drifting to either fill up on desserts or find people from their past to argue pointlessly with meant John had a spare moment with Nate. They were still in the center of the yard, slowly releasing each other after the horrifyingly awkward attempt at slow dancing we don't need to mention until the pastor mails a damage report._

_John didn't want to admit it… But the atmosphere was getting to him. It was a great idea to do this at night; Nate's breath-taking brown eyes turned amber even in the candlelight, and that made every second their eyes had contact weaken his knees. Nate looked at him as if he were someone of genuine worth, but while John didn't agree that was a debate for another time. For now, he grabbed Nate's sleeve and added some deep wrinkles and worn spots as he used that alone to balance them while he pressed himself to Nate on the borderline of appropriate public display of affection and let their lips and tongues "talk"._

* * *

"You wouldn't believe this shit if I told you." Hancock tried to warn him, though he was saying it to Nate's stoic face… During a time Nate's brain was most likely in its prime and he was reading every minor piece of body language and decoding it accurately.

"There he is!" Yet another unfamiliar voice yelled nearby, although the volume didn't cover up this was a woman...possibly on Psycho. "I want that bastard's head, and all his Minutemen weapon stockpile at my feet in one minute or the saddest fucks get a throat carving!"

Hancock and Nate looked down at the leader and at least a dozen other people dressed in typical raider attire and either aiming their guns or reeling back their throwing arm with a grenade seconds away from having the pin pulled.

* * *

Even while they were both crouched over the corpse of one of the unfortunately over-confident raiders, Hancock even having to struggle to withdraw his knife from the back of the equally lifeless leader's neck, they couldn't stop stealing glances at both each other and the sky. Hancock didn't know if Nate felt this way, but he was annoyed by the clouds beginning to drift and cover the stars.

Hancock wasn't ready to drag himself to a mattress, tell himself he accomplished what he wanted when in reality he still didn't know what the ring meant for them. Although the Mentats in his system reminded him sentimental conversation wouldn't be the most effective surrounded by blood and death.

The aftermath of the fight didn't seem to slow Nate's brain, however. As if anyone would expect otherwise from him. Though they didn't have their mood lighting, Nate approached and crouched next to him like they were in the most ideal romantic setting from his time. Whatever that was.

"John, it's alright if you can't whip out some wedding vows at a moment's notice."

There was the smallest, most insignificant moment Hancock swore he heard glass breaking as a symbol of his fragile little brain. He looked up at Nate while he aimlessly jiggled the knife stuck in the raider leader's neck, after all there was nothing to salvage this moment.

Hancock couldn't stop himself from shaking his head once, then another for good measure. It would have been so great if he stopped there, let Nate put the pieces together in his head and say what he wanted and needed to. Who did it really benefit, though?

"You deserve to know you're wanted." At the point of no return, Hancock turned to be eye to eye with Nate and let him see every anxious eye flicker or facial malfunction. "But I'm not the kind of guy to get attached from fucking; at least I **thought **I wasn't. It just had to be for someone who deserves to hear the L word back with some feeling. What we do, it's- It's the best I've ever had, but is that because you're just good at it or… Could I..." And by the end, his words crashed horrifically without earth-shattering revelation.

A crease appeared under Nate's eye, either silent contentment or some combination of booze and chems fucking with his face as well. Hancock… He didn't know what it meant, but anxiety sickness welling in his throat and stomach motivated him to take that as a good sign. Even if it was all in his head, he needed hope somewhere.

"Could I have caught something, but I either didn't know the meaning or couldn't bring myself to say it?" Hancock finished. It was over. He was over. He probably should have kissed Nate with all the unfamiliar emotion blazing off the charts, but honestly he felt ready to vomit any second from leftover worry.

It would have been great if Nate reacted in some way, but the crease left that spot under his eye and his face was right back to unreadable while he rested his chin on his knuckles. Shit, he was increasing the difficulty with a new pose.

"You don't even have to go down the science path." Hancock just kept rambling, conscious of it but unable to hold back. "Every other conversation we have on the road, you drill for the most random thought in my head. Well now I want to know **your **thoughts. Anything, Nate. Give me some kind of clue about what I'm feeling, and I'll use it. I need so much help, fucking..." Hancock would have likely found more pointless words to avoid guessing a name for his own feelings, but there was a breakthrough out of nowhere.

Well, not a breakthrough so much as timely interruption. Whatever it was, Hancock slowly processed the fact Nate leaned in much closer and pecked his forehead soothingly. Whether or not he intended for soothing would remain a mystery, though Hancock was willing to believe he simply knew him enough that a small gesture like that would make his mind swerve from the previous topic to the next. Hancock quickly lined his mouth up when he reeled back, catching his lips for a more traditional kiss.

They had to be a very normal sight from peeping distance; clothes splattered with other people's blood surrounded by their corpses. If this whole evening hadn't proven romance was dead in the Commonwealth, there you go.

They could have been kissing for seconds, minutes… Hancock anticipated another interruption at any moment. The area might have looked calm, but that had to be an illusion. If someone didn't fire ten missiles at Sanctuary-

Nate was the one to hesitantly break the kiss, although once he reeled back to look at him properly he was surrounded in a soft glow from the stars and had a crease under both eyes. "Even though our relationship reached steps out of order, if I had waited until a night like this to say 'I love you' and offer the ring… I would have prepared you to hear it by sprinkling some hints."

"Hints?" Hancock regretted asking immediately as the dread set in.

"Dates aren't just a chance to be alone with a special someone in peaceful silence. Those gifted with words open up about the moment they realized their feelings, and- Well, what you did."

"You know I've enjoyed every round of sex, but… I've got to stop you there." Hancock corrected him, voice lowering as he leaned closer to his ear. "There's at least four moments I could pick as the one where I realized you matter to me. The whole foundation's not built on sex."

"I...didn't know." A confession which Hancock couldn't help but believe when Nate said it with a small gasp, expressing himself for the first time in...

"And I didn't expect you to think anything else." Hancock confessed as well, casually cycling through examining his fingers and rubbing a tense spot on in his neck. "You have more reasons to avoid sex for fun these days. Even doing it for making kids is a risk. But despite that, you'll find a lot of people would rather show someone how close they are instead of telling. Less chance of getting-"

"LOOKS LIKE A HUMAN FEAST!" A deep and menacing voice thundered nearby, followed up by battle cries of what sounded like either ten or eleven super mutants.

Hancock shut his eyes and inhaled, hoping that after a moment or so everything around him except for Nate and a bottle of beer would be fucking gone.

Chaos broke out as Nate, some of his friends and even people who had only recently arrived in Sanctuary less than two days ago armed themselves and took their attack or defense positions. Hancock somehow didn't get destroyed by the rain of bullets being fired from the super mutant side as he took his time standing and loading his shotgun.

Unprovoked super mutant attacks might call for more attention than most, but Hancock was just going through the motions at that point. The fight probably had a lot of close calls and dramatic moments, but they went right over his head as his body moved purely out of habit. As if it compared to that time on the hotel roof, you know, with having to count each step as to not become a blood smear on the ground.

The world doesn't calm down while you're having a breakthrough, sentimental conversation. It certainly doesn't stop the clouds from finally blocking the view of stars as the battle comes to an end, and there's too many corpses and people around to regain the semi-peaceful atmosphere from before.

* * *

Despite the interruptions, Hancock considered this evening a success. He didn't tell Nate everything, but later in the night when they crashed on a mattress in the truck stop he realized his chest wasn't tightening from stress. In the aftermath of speaking a little more personally, of course there were fleeting seconds of embarrassment when he was caught lying awake going over the events and wondering where he'd go from there… Where **they **were going, to be precise.

"_**Just don't become comfortable.**_" The BS thoughts griped farther into his mind. "_**You did have opportunities to say whether or not what you're feeling is love, but the world wasn't what stopped that. It was all you. And if you really were in love with Nate, don't you think you would have blurted it by now? At least by accident. People are dumb when they get high off emotions… Not that you would know anything about that kind of high.**_"

Hancock rolled from his left to right, facing the back of Nate's head while he was in what had to be a deep sleep considering he didn't respond other than shifting slightly when his hand reached out and trailed down his spine. He considered pressing his palm against his back, stir him from his sleep to ask right then and there if their lack of progress tonight was his own fault. He didn't go through with it.

While the BS thoughts continued to complain and tear down any hope he might have built that night, Hancock closed the small distance between them on that mattress by inching toward him with the stealth of a nuke. He didn't know that just having someone sleep next to him could be some kind of event, up until the last year or so. He had been missing out. But since he opened up, he felt like if he were caught nuzzling his shoulder and holding him close by a single arm he wouldn't think it was weird.

What could possibly be weird about their relationship at that point, anyhow?

* * *

_**TBC**_


	3. Author's Note

**ALERT! ALERT INCOMING (2nd) A/N BY THAT CHOSEN FUCK! ROUTE TO SAFETY OR WHATEVER SAVES YOUR LIFE!**

I think there's some kind of term for seeing things twice, but I can't be bothered to be fancy right now so... Yup, I am indeed halting the story in its tracks just so I can bitch about nothing that matters. And this is an important update I'm giving; it's very likely to be the final update I ever give for this story.

It's no secret that I've lost all hope this story is actually considered worth reading, right? Because I have. This is the second time, yikes. After I realized this has happened twice, I just cringe at the idea of it happening more. So I've come to an incredibly irrational decision.

With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma is discontinued. I intended to end it at chapter 3, but I tried to write the 3rd chapter and I just can't do it. My heart just wasn't in it. Everything was garbage, this story is garbage. What other conclusion am I supposed to come to? My opinion of this story has been such a roller coaster, but now I don't want anything to do with it anymore. Who cares if it doesn't get resolved? No one, apparently. Like, I don't think anyone out there cares if this just sits around and collects dust. Nothing can change my mind about that. I think that since Fallout as a whole is very important to me (I have some kind of non-dramatic backstory involving it that nobody's got time for), I should be a hell of a lot more enthusiastic to write for it. But it's not working. I won't stop writing for it, not yet, but so far my record hasn't been good and that's not because my works so far are set in 4. Tell me 4 wasn't redeemed after 76 reinvented depression, and I might actually laugh.

You know what fucking sucks the most? I don't even want to discontinue this story; that's giving up. That's basically my life in a nutshell, though: giving up before finding out if can actually do some unimportant shit I'll forget about by the end of the week right.

_In memory of With This Ring Minus 48 Charisma_

_2019-**hell on Earth**_

"_...You not punching me in the throat when I tried to flirt for the first time, yes, that's how far back it goes."_


End file.
